Chosen Lightly but Rightly
by TylaraRemember
Summary: Heralds come from all walks of life, or so they say. And yet, no one can remember the last time a lady of the night was Chosen. Why not? After all, it's not like the rest of the Heralds are terribly virtuous. Rated T for suggestion: not explicit!
1. Chapter 1

Heralds come from all walks of life, or so they say. Commoners, highborn, thieves, traders, even the occasional assassin or outKingdomer. And yet, no one can remember the last time a lady of the night was Chosen. Why not? After all, everybody knows the Heralds are anything but celibate.

Rated T for suggestion—I promise I don't intend to write anything explicit!

Disclaimer: Heralds/Companions/Valdemar etc equals property of M Lackey equals not mine!

* * *

Chosen Lightly but Rightly

Chapter 1

Gaia spun, then turned to regard her image in the mirror. With her long skirts swirling about her, in the height of Court fashion, she was pleased with what she saw. Elaborately coiffed rich auburn hair was piled atop her head, a few loose curls cascading down past her waist. Bright brown eyes, large and innocent, thickly lashed, gazed out at her. A pale, pretty face with a rosebud mouth, a small pert nose, and pink cheeks smiled saucily. Her long, lithe form was set off well by the low-necked gown of green wool. She could have been one of the young Court flowers, save that the neck of her gown was just a hair too low, the cut just a smidgen too suggestive. _I have come a long way from what I was when I arrived in this city._

"Lady Elsa! Your milord is here to see you!" came the voice of the mistress of the house. Gaia was not permitted to use her real name, not that she would have wished to, but the mistress said it was too much a commoner's name, and the milords who came to her establishment were interested in a more cultured female.

"I do apologize, sir, I'll be down in but a moment!" Gaia cried back, careful to modulate her voice into cultured tones and the high-pitched breathiness of a young flirt.

She twirled in front of the mirror once more, checking the fall of her dress. There was nothing in her appearance to tell of the lost little farmer's daughter she'd been six years earlier when she'd entered this life. She was lucky to have been found by Madame Lucalle, who insisted that her girls be old enough to have a monthly cycle and carry a witty conversation, and had spent the intervening years training Gaia in all she needed to know to become one of the city's most sought-after courtesans. Now, at sixteen, "Lady Elsa" was the talk of the town—when no wives or other females were present.

Gaia ran down the steps to the receiving room, careful both to put a swing to her hips and to keep her steps light like a carefree girl.

"Oh, milord, you came to see me!" she gushed, like one of the sweet young highborn maidens receiving a caller.

Later that evening Gaia picked up the mess they'd made of her room, smiling to herself. Though disreputable, this was not such a bad life, all told.

* * *

Gaia yawned, and quickly covered her mouth. In the year and a half since she had 'come out' into society, this was without doubt the most boring play yet. And when it finally ended, her evening would not be over–her escort would take her home with him, where she would be expected to fulfill his every wish. 

Gaia winced as one of the actors onstage squalled. Enough was enough! She leaned closer to the young lord who was tonight's companion, so that her shoulder brushed his arm and he had a clear view down her neckline. "Milord," she said breathily, "it is quite close in here, and I begin to feel faint. Perhaps we could take some air?"

The fellow was so solicitous, Gaia actually felt bad for not telling the truthful reason for their hasty exit. Lady Elsa and Lord Harmon were soon to be seen strolling in the alley alongside the playhouse.

It was one of the better parts of town, but not exactly upscale. There was a beggar on the corner. Lady Elsa gave Harmon sad eyes until he flipped a coin into the beggar's bowl. At that, Elsa gave her breathy laugh and rewarded him with a peck on the cheek. Then she drew back, as if aghast. "Oh, milord, I do beg your pardon! It's just that, well, you're such a _good_ man." Elsa peeked up at him through her lashes, head bowed demurely. She was, after all, a consummate flirt. After six years' practice, she should be.

Lord Harmon was blushing. "It's quite all right, Elsa, m'dear. Ah—would you care for some refreshment? Perhaps a carriage, so that your slippers don't get soiled?"

Gaia wondered for a moment if he knew what he sounded like. Then Elsa took over, grasping the young lord's hand with her own, gathering her skirts with the other, and crying, "Come, milord, let us visit the fountain!"

* * *

The fountain square was filled with people, as always. Elsa blithely danced closer to the water's edge, wanting a chance to peer at her reflection, no doubt. She looked so light and carefree, so innocent. He knew better. 

He knew she didn't love him. For all she gave herself to him, she didn't love him—she had so many men. And he was no longer one of them, now that his father had decreed it was time for him to outgrow this fascination with a lightskirt and settle down with a wife.

Well, if he couldn't have her, no one else would either.

He waited until the foolish lordling's back was turned, then yanked Elsa away. A hand over her mouth stifled her startled cry, then she looked up. Recognizing him, she smiled. He smiled back at her, the knife in his right hand invisible behind her back. If she made a fuss, he'd simply gut her then leave her for the lordling to explain. Of course, he'd rather she came with him, but there were other girls where she came from.

"Milord, I have not seen you for so long!" Elsa proclaimed. "And yet, I must make my apologies, for I must return to my escort. He will be alarmed that I have wandered off."

She thought he didn't know. She thought he didn't realize these men paid, as his father had paid. Selfish bitch. She thought she was such a prize.

He snarled, and raised the knife.

* * *

Gaia pulled back from the expression on the man's face. He looked completely deranged. Behind her she felt movement, and caught a flash of steel out of the corner of her eye. _Oh, gods! He could kill me! I don't want to die! _

Then came a mighty whinny. Hooves of thunder, eyes of blue flame, a piece of lightening made flesh, a Companion. She shouldered Gaia roughly away, to knock the man to the ground. With a cry of rage that sounded almost human, the mare brought her front hooves down on the man's upper arm, breaking it with an audible snap. He moved to reach with his other arm—she caught his shoulder in her teeth, squeezing so Gaia could hear the bones grate.

_:Never come near her again, or you _will_ die, and it will be your own fault. You have been warned.:_

Gaia gasped to hear the words in her head.

_:Hello, Gaia. My name is Risata, and I Choose you. You are mine, forever. You are not allowed to be killed.:_

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Let me know if you think this is an idea worth continuing. It's staying as a oneshot unless I get some reviews! hint, hint 


	2. Chapter 2: The Collegium

Thanks to all those who reviewed! Sorry it's short, I just wanted to put something up to prove I'm going to keep writing. Hopefully it won't be as long in between next time.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

A/N: If you recognize names, it's because this is set relatively shortly post-Brightly Burning.

_:Never come near her again, or you will die, and it will be your own fault. You have been warned.:_

Galla gasped to hear the words in her head.

_:Hello, Galla. My name is Risata, and I Choose you. You are mine, forever. You are not allowed to be killed.:_

Chapter 2: The Collegium

After that rather melodramatic statement, of course, everything else started to seem a little anticlimactic. Galla stood for what _seemed_ like a very long time, staring down at the little red puddle of blood on the ground. It glistened horrifically in the torchlight. Then Lord Harmon emerged from the crowd, trying to take her arm.

Risata, standing protectively close to her Chosen, flattened her ears and bared her teeth at his temerity. She let out a sound remarkably like a growl.

Lord Harmon paused, then turned the gesture into a negligent wave of his hand. "Lady Elsa, where is the beast's Herald? You may wish to return home before the Guard comes to investigate."

Risata took a step foreward, stretching her neck to put her muzzle right in his face. She growled again, and stamped a hoof menacingly. He gulped, paled, and took a step back. Risata turned and put herself between that foolish man and her Chosen.

_:Sweet, would you like to get on now? I can get you back to the Collegium and you can get washed up and into a uniform before we have to speak to the Guard.:_

Galla nodded mutely, barely listening. A crowd had formed, with them in the center.

_:Don't think about it, Chosen. I would not have let him hurt you.:_

Galla looked up, at the drowningly blue eyes of the one who would be her partner in everything she did for the rest of eternity. "I know, but what if you hadn't come? What if he'd tried to kill someone else, who wasn't going to be Chosen?"

_:Think about it later? We'll do something about him, the Guard will find him. Come give me a hug! Aren't you happy to be Chosen?:_

"Of course I am!" And at last, Galla went to get acquainted with her new Companion.

Risata thumped a silver hoof on the door frame. Again.

_:Chosen, tell them to hurry up. I want to go show you off to the Collegium!:_

Galla was still having trouble wrapping her mind around it. It had been a normal day, then she'd almost been killed, then she'd acquired a talking white un-horse. Who was definitely lacking in patience.

"Miss, please, one more time. You knew this fellow from _where_?" the Guard asked Galla.

"That's enough, you scalawag! Making a lady recount such delicate matters, not good form, no indeed. Let us go, I say!" Of course, Lord Harmon had reinstated himself as Galla's escort, delighted to be embroiled in such drama.

"Another thing, the lady's profession? You say you bear no Guild tags," the last addressed to Galla, "and you are a paid companion? Whose companion?"

Risata thumped her hoof again.

_:That's backwards, I'm the Companion. Tell him to pull that stick out of his rear and stop beating around the bush, let's go!:_

"And while you are…accompanying…these people, someone is paid for your time? Not yourself or your parents?"

_:On second thought, let's wait here juuuust a moment. See if you can get him to ask something _really_ offensive.:_

"Pardon me," came a voice from the door, "but I believe you have a Heraldic Trainee who really should be getting on to the Collegium?"

The speaker, a tall, solid-looking man with a wiry shock of gray hair, garbed in Heraldic Whites, entered. "I am Herald Jedin, Chosen by Rolan. I have been authorized by the king to take this young lady and her Companion, um, as well as her companion, back to the palace to get this situation sorted out. Captain, you're welcome to accompany us if you so choose."

The Captain agreed, of course, and sent for his horse so he could ride with the Heralds. Nobody offered Lord Harmon a mount—he was left huffing in impotent indignation at the gates of the Guard post. Galla was almost sorry to see the last of him.

At the Collegium, a matronly woman with a stern face and a giantesque bust hustled Galla down corridors and up stairs to a steamy room full of bathing tubs and boilers. It was empty, but showed signs of recent occupation—a half-full tub still draining, a pile of neatly folded clothes, colonies of wet towels.

_:They were probably worried you'd be modest.:_ Risata sounded unflatteringly amused. _:I didn't tell them anything but your name. I thought maybe you'd like to explain the rest yourself?:_

"Thanks," Galla muttered dryly, then was lost to the luxury of hot water. Madame Lucalle insisted her girls bathe weekly, but she thought hot water was a useless frivolity. As long as they dried properly, it would do them no harm even in the coldest months. Galla couldn't even remember ever having had such a wonderful bath.

It was over far too soon. _:Chosen, there are some people waiting for you. While I'm all for keeping them waiting, they'll be more pleasant if you get there sooner.:_

"Oh," was all Galla could think to say, and she reluctantly looked for the towels. The clothing the matronly housekeeper had brought her turned out to be an oddly old-fashioned looking tunic in a pale gray, a grey lawn shirt, loose breeches, and some very minimal underthings—at least compared to the stays, camises, and shifts Galla had worn under her gown.

"Are you ready?" A girl poked her head into the room, and seeing Galla dressing came to sit near her. "Sorry, we didn't really know what size you were. Usually our clothes fit really well. I'm Asme. Cara says you're Galla?"

At Galla's nod, the Asme gave her a hesitant smile and fell silent. When Galla finished fastening her boots and stood, Asme told her, "Herald Jedin and a Guard captain want a word with you, then I can show you your bedroom or you can go visit Risata. Do you…that is, would you like me to come with you?"

"Yes, please." Asme might be a little quiet, but at least she was friendly. And she was wearing the horrible grey uniform too, which made Galla feel considerably less conspicuous.

As it turned out, with Herald Jedin's help the interview was nothing to worry about. Galla explained that she had been separated from her escort and Risata had announced herself in time to prevent any injury. Jedin verified that Risata had told the other Companions what was going on. The captain apologized for detaining them. It was relatively painless.

Suddenly Galla was swept up in a whirl of introductions, clothes-fitting, shoe-sizing, room-assigning, and tour-receiving. Feeling almost dazed, she was barely aware of the activity around her. She had sunk deep into Risata's mind, allowing the Companion to wrap her in a cotton cloud of comfort and reassurance—truly, she was asleep long before she reached her new (uncommonly empty) bed.


	3. Chapter 3: Day One

Galla awoke to the harsh tolling of a surprisingly insistent bell. She smiled at Risata's sleepy rumble in the back of her head, perfectly content with her new role in life. Rolling sideways, she swung her feet onto the shiny floor of her new room. The boards were polished and clean, though dark and a little scuffed with age. There was a smallish, glazed window directly across from the door, with her bed against one of the side walls and a freestanding wardrobe and small, grated fireplace on the other. A little table next to the bed held a pile of soft grey clothes, identical to the outfit Galla had fallen asleep in. Galla switched breeches, since the pair she'd slept in were a little wrinkled. She found her short black walking boots, fashionable and practical for a young lady about town, discarded under the window. Through the thick, wavy glass, she could see a section of reddish building, a paved courtyard and a walking garden beyond.

Finishing with the bootlaces, Galla left the room. The hallway was identical to either side—more doors, all closed. After a moment of thought, Galla walked quietly to her left. After passing four doors, she found a room from which faint rustling noises were coming. She knocked.

"Coming!" came a shout. There was a thump, a muffled curse, then the door swung inward and a tall, dark-haired young woman with a prominent nose stepped through. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw Galla.

"Oh. You must be the new one. Right."

Galla gave her a smile and a nod. "I got here last night. I was hoping you might be able to tell me what I should be doing this morning?"

The black-haired girl looked at her closer, and smiled. "Well, aren't you sensible. No shy lurking in bedrooms for you, I see. I'm Reylina. Chosen by Tharne. First thing to do is breakfast. Then someone can show you where to find the Dean—didn't you meet him when you got here?"

"I'm Galla, Chosen by Risata, and—oh." Galla pulled a paper from the pocket of yesterday's grey tunic. It bore a list of names. She held it up for Reylina to see. "He gave me this?"

The tall girl gave an abrupt nod. "Teachers," she explained shortly, and made a curt gesture for Galla to accompany her.

Galla followed Reylina to a large room of tables and benches, full of noise, grey-clad youths, and the smells of breakfast. Reylina sat, so Galla did as well. Instantly a blonde boy (wearing gray, of course) leaned over her shoulder to set a clean plate in front of each girl. He gave Galla a huge smile and a wink. Reylina slapped him—not gently—and he grinned at her too, before vanishing back into the masses of seething grey.

The noise level was at a low roar throughout the room, though Reylina appeared to have seated them in an island of quiet. The students nearest to them were all blurry-eyed with fatigue, heads drooping, and in one case, head flat on the table and drooling slightly. The dozing boy jerked awake when he noticed Galla beside him. He poked the girl on the other side of him and murmured something unintelligible.

Galla looked up as another figure approached her. It was Asme, the quiet girl from the previous evening. The blonde girl gave her a smile and gestured for the now-awake boy next to Galla to scoot over.

"Morning, Galla. Sleep well? I'm going to show you where your classes are today."

"Oy, Asme!" came a shout. "Introduce us to the new girl, will ya!"

It didn't take long before the table was swamped with Trainees eager to welcome their newest classmate. Galla was soon reduced to smiling and nodding at new acquaintances, unable to assign names to faces in the chaos. At the end of the meal Asme and a brash redhead called Kary led Galla into the hall, finishing some complicated explanation about the division of labor that Galla hadn't heard her start. "…and if you can't sew, don't worry, there's always peeling tubers, and anybody can learn to clean—" The corridor led to the exterior of the building, and Galla was once again distracted from Asme's well-meaning dissertation. There was a mass of young people seething in the yard, dressed in brown, green, blue, and grey—and none of them seemed to mind the noise they were making. It was a boisterous roar, and none of them appeared to have a second thought about the lack of poise and propriety they were exhibiting. Galla stared for a moment, aghast, then grinned.

_I can do this. No need to mind my lessons, no need to second-guess every action, make every gesture flirtatious…._

_:Please don't tell me you're going to turn into a prude, Chosen. And here I thought I'd be getting to listen in on all your fun!:_

Gulp. _My Companion is a voyeur?_

A suddenly serious mindvoice spoke again. _:Chosen, you'll never need to worry about your privacy from me. I can keep a secret, and I can give you some space if you need it. If there's something you don't want me to ask about, all you have to do is tell me.:_

A bit thrown by the conversation, Galla latched onto that last phrase.

_:You mean I have to tell you about it to appease your curiosity, and then you'll stop asking about it, right?:_

A rich chuckle that somehow tasted warm and spicy in her mind was her reward.

_:You've known me for less than a day, and you already know how I work. It's only because I love you though, you know. Otherwise I wouldn't pry.:_

_:And if I asked, nobody would tell me that you're the nosiest Companion in the field?:_

_:Humpf! Certainly not!:_ This was accompanied by an impression of a hot blush and a slightly chagrined expression. Though how a horse's face could manage that was a bit of a mystery.

The conversation had taken her all the way to the classroom of the first teacher on her list. Looking up to find the open door in front of her and Asme and Kary grinning at her with knowing looks, Galla quickly apologized for her rudeness.

"We remember what it's like to be newly Chosen." Kary smiled at Asme. "Companions can be distracting little buggers when they're chattering away in your head!"

"Yours does it too?" There was such an expression of relief on Galla's face that the older Trainees couldn't help but chuckle.

Once in the classroom, Galla had met her new 'family.' A year-group had begun lessons scarcely five days before, so the Dean had decreed that Galla would catch up rather than wait for the next to assemble. She had been told several times over breakfast how lucky she was—for once, there were near-equal numbers of each sex in the group. Isthina was the other girl, a smiling blonde from the Lake Evendim area. The three boys all seemed friendly, and with their dark hair and dusky skin, nearly interchangeable. Karsh, Gellan, and Jurne were all from the same town on the Karasite border, Chosen within a month of each other and each on the heels of a bandit attack. The five newest trainees had been placed in several classes together, including Orientation and Riding.

After a mark of learning-how-things-work-around-here, the group was set loose to find their way to the Companions' Stables for riding lessons. Karsh had been in the Palace longest and lead the way. The Trainees were met at the stable door by a five exuberant, fully tacked Companions.

Their instructor introduced herself as Terah, a Herald recently off border patrol to give the senior instructor a hand. "In the future, you'll need to know how to groom and tack up for yourselves. Since this is our first lesson I thought we'd just see what everyone already knows about riding."

Galla's mind immediately flashed to Socks and Nudge, her family's sturdy and much beloved workhorses. Then the image of her father walking behind Nudge at the plow began to darken, and Nudge fell forward as a gash severed his near fore—_no_!

_:Chosen?:_

Risata hadn't been paying attention. Thank the Many Small Lords for that.

_:Just thinking, sorry. I'll try to do it more softly.:_

_:Think away! But you might want to listen, unless you've done a lot of riding?:_

Horses on small farms were for working, not playing. Galla had never used a saddle, though she could cling to Socks' back and make it to the neighbors' at a slow trot.

_:No, just a little: _She answered. _:But you wouldn't let me fall, would you? In front of the whole field? They'd know you couldn't keep me up top…:_

A horsey chuckle. _:No, no falling today. Maybe once the ground is nice and soft and muddy, though.:_

Galla's ears suddenly caught part of what the instructor was saying. As Galla stared up at Herald Terah's smiling face, she felt the first true niggling of misgiving.

"I'll be able to do _what_ on top of a horse?!"

_:Chosen, silly, it's just a line. It's not because of your profession, though I'm sure you're very good at it. They tell that to all the trainees. You'll never actually have to try it, I hope—believe me I'll be just as happy as you if you never try to make love in my saddle.: _

"After I'm through with you, you'll be able to eat, sleep, or even make love while mounted." Terah repeated that famous, traditional line. She was a little surprised to see the shock and indignation on the new Trainee's face—she'd been informed that the late addition to the year-group was a member of some working class in the city. Usually postadolescent trainees were more liable to giggle at the mention of sex, as evinced by the smirks on the faces of the other four Greys. This one, though, looked ready to fight or flee.

A/N: Hi there! I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who reviewed—sorry, I haven't exactly figured out how to reply to those yet! Also, my apologies for taking so long to anybody who's actually trying to follow this story. Two years to the day! I kind of got stuck when I realized I didn't exactly have much of a plot in mind…but that should be taken care of now. Ish. Maybe. I hope. Sorry for the filler chapter. From now on I'm totally going to finish stories before I start posting! Anyways, thanks for reading and let me know if you've got suggestions!

—lara


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